


Winners and Losers

by keep_waking_up



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Alpha, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Knotting, M/M, Pain, Weecest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-19 23:27:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2406773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keep_waking_up/pseuds/keep_waking_up
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was just something all Alphas did.  It was totally normal.  And Dean didn’t like it one bit.  Except for how he kind of did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winners and Losers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kjanddean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjanddean/gifts).



There were times when Dean wished Sam hadn’t grown up to be such a tall motherfucker.  Like, any time they were walking side-by-side, or when Sam would use his longer reach to hold things over Dean’s head, which, hey, that used to be Dean’s trick, okay, it wasn’t cool having it turned back on him.  It was fucking humiliating to be so much shorter than his seventeen-year-old baby brother.  _Then_ there were the times when they had to share a bed, even though Dean was an _adult_ now.  The fucker took up all the space with his broad shoulders and long limbs, which meant Dean had to sleep in a cramped up little ball on the edge of the bed.

Yet, Dean never cursed Sam’s size as fervently as he did in moments like these.

“Say uncle, Dean,” Sam sing-songed in his ear.  The fucker was holding both Dean’s arms behind his back and laying on his weight on them, so there was no way for Dean to throw him off or roll them over.  His knees were positioned to push Dean’s legs wide—vulnerable—and Dean could practically _taste_ how smug Sam was about his little victory.  “C’mon, I’ve beat you fair and square.  Give.”

Dean huffed angrily, and the little puff of air blew some of the dirt on the ground away from his face.  “Fair and square, yeah right.  I fucking _sneezed_.”

“Teaches you not to sneeze during a fight,” Sam said, in a bad imitation of their dad’s gruff, no-nonsense voice.  “You have to be prepared for anything, Dean.  You can’t have your body betray you like that—”

Sensing Sam was distracted with mocking their father, Dean heaved himself to the side.  Sam swore as there was a brief struggle as Dean tried to get free and Sam tried to roll him back into position.  Unfortunately for Dean, sheer mass won out, and Sam slammed his face back into the dirt with a triumphant grunt.

Fucking four inches and only god knew how many pounds made winning a hell of a lot harder.

“Don’t make me grind your face into the ground,” Sam warned.  He sounded a little bit exasperated, like Dean’s attempts to free himself were a minor annoyance.  “You know the rules.  _Give_.”

Dean knew when he was beat, but that didn’t mean he had to be _nice_ about it.  “Fine, you overgrown bitch, I give.  Uncle, okay?” 

With an obnoxiously superior-sounding chuckle, Sam released his wrists and leaned back a bit, letting Dean get his arms under him.  “You don’t have to pretend, Dean.  I know you’re gagging for it.”

“In your dreams,” Dean shot back, the sort of thing any Alpha would say after losing a tussle and having to play out the role that gave them.  His heart fluttered a bit in his chest even as he said it, though, a neon signal that Dean wasn’t being _entirely_ honest.

He shouldn’t enjoy it, that was the thing.  Young Alphas all around the globe fought and wrestled the way he and Sam just had—although with perhaps quite a bit less training—all childish displays of dominance, a way to release tension.  The winner’s prize was that whoever lost would get down on their hands and knees and _take_ it.

Sam never protested it, probably because it was totally normal.  Alphas couldn’t be with anyone else without risking getting them pregnant, given that there weren’t any knot-proof condoms.  Some Alphas thought that the pull-out method would work, but most people knew that once the knot started expanding, there wasn’t any way a teenager would have the presence of mind to pull out fast. 

Instead, young Alphas practiced on each other.  Oftentimes, school locker rooms after football games looked more like an orgy than anything else, the losers letting the winners fuck them, loud Alpha growls resounding off the walls as they began to learn exactly _what_ being an Alphameant.

Dean had indulged in some of that stuff at school when he was younger.  He’d liked it as both a sure-fire way to get some respect in a new area _and_ an opportunity to get laid.  He’d always loved watching that begrudging stretch of back bow down in front of him as he thrust in and out with hard-won skill.  It was almost as good as the way the Betas and Omegas would watch him afterwards, the imagined stink of their arousal driving him to fuck his opponent even faster.

The constant moving and his job taking care of Sammy meant that there wasn’t much opportunity for it, however.  Sam, the little freak, didn’t like the idea of doing it all with people he didn’t know.  “Dude, you never know when they last showered,” he always said, face scrunched up in a moue of disgust.  “At least I know _you’re_ clean.”

Since Sam had turned sixteen, their evening wrestling had begun to end a bit differently, and if Dean enjoyed it—the teeth on the back of his neck, the weight of Sam in him, the hard press of him against what felt like every inch of Dean’s skin—more than he ever had with any of the other Alphas he’d messed around with?  Well, maybe it was just that he actually liked Sam as a person or something.  How the fuck should he know?

Sam tapped his hip.  “Sweats,” he commanded.  “And shirt too, actually.”

“Seriously, man?” Dean grumbled, but began to strip obligingly.  He kept his back to Sam, but he could feel his brother’s gaze on his skin as he pulled off his clothing.  He didn’t _actually_ object, though, because the winner set the rules and he’d made Sam strip before, to embarrass him or irritate him.  “I’m gonna fucking burn.”  It was _bright_ out.

Snorting, Sam shoved him back down onto his hands and yanked the sweats down to his knees.  “I’ll be covering you,” he said, then lifted one of Dean’s legs to pull the remaining fabric off.  “So you’ll be fine, princess.”

Dean kicked helpfully when Sam pulled the sweats off his other foot and smirked when his heel accidentally connected with Sam’s shoulder.  The smirk disappeared quickly when Sam slapped his ass in retaliation.  “Hey!” Dean objected, twisting around to glare at his younger brother.  “The violence portion of this evening is over, thank you very much!”

“You started it,” Sam said mulishly.  He was still fully dressed, but his fingers were fiddling with the elastic band holding his sweats up.  He was already so big, but Dean could see he was still growing.  The shirt he was wearing, one they’d bought just a month or so before, was already straining at the shoulders.  Sam, who’d always been so lean, was bulking up fast.  That fucker.

“Whatever.”  Dean rolled his eyes and then rolled his shoulders back for good measure.  “Let’s get on with it.  Hurry it up, Sammy.”

Sam sucked in a breath like he was about to say something, then seemed to think the better of it and sighed.  There was some rustling, then the click of a bottle cap opening and the wet sound of lube being squeezed out.

Sam let out a low moan and Dean sucked his bottom lip into his mouth.  He knew what Sam was doing.  He could clearly envision the way Sam was slicking up his cock with lube, stroking it from half-hard to fully erect, getting ready to fuck Dean.  It was always a bit obscene when Sam jerked himself off, Dean thought, and he’d seen it enough times over to the years to know.  Sam’s whole body got into it, head thrown back, chest heaving, hips circling slowly… 

If Sam had been an Omega, Dean would have thought it was hot as fuck.  As an Alpha…

Well, he _was_ an _Alpha._ Alphas just didn’t _feel_ that way about other Alphas—not unless they were seriously fucked up—so it was just Sam.

Sam’s hands were slippery with lube when they down to grab Dean’s hips.  “Spread your legs a little more,” Sam demanded, voice a little lower, a little huskier.  Dean ground his teeth together, but obeyed, only growling when Sam said, “good boy” in a sickly sweet voice.

“Dude, you don’t need to run your mouth to get off,” Dean said, and automatically flinched when the head of Sam’s cock nudged up against his ass, smearing lube in its wake.  As was their tradition, Dean—and Sam as well, he assumed—had prepped minimally beforehand, so they didn’t have to waste their time dealing with it once matters were settled.  “So why don’t you consider shutting it?”

Laughing breathlessly, Sam pushed forward a little more.  There was a build-up of pressure and then the tip of his cock was inside of Dean.  Nails biting into the dirt, Dean tried not to make any sound as Sam’s dick pressed into him, inch by inch.  This was yet one more example of why he hated Sam’s size.  Sam was big _all over_.  Eight _inches_ of big.

Dean’s ass was not built to handle _eight inches_.  The first time he’d fucking _cried_ —in a very manly way, of course.  Luckily, Sam hadn’t noticed—too busy losing his virginity—or Dean would never have heard the end of it.

“Ugh, yeah, Dean,” Sam groaned as he bottomed out.  His fingers flexed around Dean’s hips and he ground forward in an eager little movement.  “God, so fucking tight.”

“And clean,” Dean quipped, trying not to sound like he was in an _incredible amount of pain_.  He tried to focus on the dirt under his hands and knees, the sweat gathering at the base of his spine, Sam’s harsh breaths—anything but the _huge_ cock in his ass.  “Showered for you and everything.”

“You’re a great brother, Dean,” Sam gasped out, sarcasm lacing his voice as he pulled his hips back and snapped back in, jolting Dean’s whole body.  “Good to know you only clean yourself for my sake.”

Sam fucked to his own rhythm.  Dean had been the one he’d perfected it on, so Dean knew every move of it.  A few, he was pleased to say, Sam had picked up from him.  The little swivel of his hips, for instance, that pressed his cock right up against Dean’s prostate was something Dean was proud to say he’d developed.  He’d always liked it best when the Alphas he’d fucked had reluctantly gotten off.  With Sam, of course, it wasn’t nearly as vindictive.  He’d never liked seeing Sam in pain, so after the first couple of times, he’d gone out of his way to make getting fucked good for Sam and Sam had returned the favor.

Nothing was as good as fucking Sam, obviously, but Dean had come to occasionally—okay, more than occasionally—appreciate the way Sam thrust into him, with one hard stroke, a shallow thrust, and then a slow roll.  As his body adjusted once more to accommodating Sam in him, he began to involuntarily move with Sam’s rhythm, his body encouraging his brother with quick little squeezes.

Fuck, he loved when Sam’s ass did that when he was in him.  The way it fluttered around him, clung to him, clenched down on him as Sam came… Dean liked the idea of giving that to Sam as well.  His brother should have everything Dean could give him.  Every little piece.

“Dean, Dean, Dean,” Sam muttered, like it was some kind of religious chant that would bring his orgasm sooner.  He moved, blanketing himself over Dean’s back so he could bite down on the back of Dean’s neck, sucking and nipping at the skin there.  All the Alpha in Dean made him want to throw Sam off, to growl and snarl and thrash until the vulnerable back of his neck was released.  Even as he shifted uneasily from the sensation, Sam’s hands tightened on him, holding him still.  There was an urgency to it; Sam’s knot was beginning to expand, rubbing teasingly at the rim of his ass with every move.  It was Dean’s favorite part and he arched back into it, wishing it could go on forever.

God, he wanted to grab his dick and go to town, but any movement at this point would just end in Sam pinning him down and growling, the Alpha part of his brain seeing   it as an attempt to escape.  So he waited obligingly, panting a little as Sam started to rut into him faster.  He was so fucking _hard_ , if Sam would just hurry up and finish—

“Dean!”  Sam hissed and Dean winced, both at the teeth biting into his shoulder and the knot expanding as it pushed into place.  Sam growled incessantly as he ground his hips into Dean’s ass, all hindbrain and none of Dean’s snarky little brother left.  The man behind him was all Alpha, and Dean simply had to wait it out.

Jizz was always the worst part of the whole thing, and Dean grimaced as Sam cried out and came.  Sam’s come began to pulse into him and he fidgeted uncomfortably.  While his ass certainly wasn’t made to take an eight inch dick, that always seemed the lesser of two evils after Sam had pumped him full.

Sam didn’t seem to like the movement though, because his arms came down to hug Dean around the waist, holding them firmly body-to-body.  “Ah, c’mon, Sam,” Dean groaned, but he didn’t struggle as Sam rolled them onto their sides so they were sprawled in the dirt.  Sam was still sucking on his skin contentedly, so Dean sighed and waited for his little brother to come down from the high.

As soon as Sam’s mouth released his skin, Dean was reminded of the hard weight of his dick.  He’d been content (okay, he’d been more than content) with the fullness of Sam’s cock in him and the way his leisurely sucking had made his chest feel a bit too warm.  Still, he wasn’t about to let Sam know that.  He kicked his shin.  “Dude.  A little reciprocation, please?”

Still in caveman-mode, Sam only grunted, but his hand came down to hold Dean’s cock, expertly squeezing and stroking it.  Dean relaxed, letting his head fall backwards onto Sam’s shoulder as Sam pulled at his dick, relishing—even though he knew he shouldn’t—the way Sam’s cock pulsed inside of him.  It was just too much, Sam touching his cock and filling him, nuzzling into him like Dean was _his._ He came quickly, with a low, muffled grunt, and Sam laid a light kiss on the side of his neck.  “Dean,” he said contentedly, and nuzzled closer.  “Dean,” he repeated.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m your favorite,” Dean agreed, yawning happily now that his dick was no longer aching.  Sam continued to pepper his neck with little kisses and Dean batted at him.  “Knock it off, dude.”

Sam pushed up on one elbow and hooked his chin over Dean’s shoulder so he could look at him, pupils still blown wide from his orgasm.  Still, there was something there, something heated and open that made Dean shift uncomfortably, even though Sam’s dick was still pulsing away inside of him.

Then Sam looked away, choosing instead to nose at Dean’s head and rub his cheeks over it, scent-marking Dean vigorously.  Any other time, Dean would have laughed at Sam’s antics, but he was still a bit put off from that look.  It was a look he’d only ever worried about seeing on his own face.  He must have just imagined it.  There was no way that Sam could—

“Dean,” Sam said happily.  “Dean, Dean, Dean.”

Rearranging his features into something that resembled a smile, Dean looked around at his little brother.  “I know, kiddo, I know.”

Next time, he’d just have to make sure that he won.

Although maybe it wasn’t so bad to lose after all.


End file.
